chrishansenhome

After church and antibiotic injection, we decided that we wouldn't go to see the Tate Britain Rude Britannia exhibition—HWMBO was too tired, and I would have to have him push me around in a borrowed wheelchair if I were to emerge from the other side with my foot intact. So lunch beckoned. I wanted a Subway BMT, but HWMBO says that we are poor and thus shouldn't eat that stuff too often. I wasn't up to arguing, so I set off to Tesco's to pick up various stuff for lunch and later on.

When I got to Tesco's (and London Stabbie really wanted to teach a lesson to the young kid who was trying to ride his bicycle in the shopping center), I happened to see the fresh bread rack, and there was a granary baton. A little light went on in my head. So I put that in my basket, bought some Swiss cheese, went around the corner to the about-to-expire case and found lots of cold cuts there. So I put several packets of ham in my basket. I bought one green pepper, one red onion, and several other bits and bobs. Then I was ready.

When I got home I made HWMBO a ham and cheese sandwich. But for myself, I split the granary baton, put in ham, Swiss cheese, lettuce, sliced red onion, sliced green pepper, some bottled jalapeños, and some mayonnaise. Cut in half and, voilà! A Subway-style ham and cheese sub.



I thought it was good enough for a picture.

We had a very leisurely day today. At 1 we went out to Leicester Square to meet M, and then go to lunch. After a bit of a tussle over "where" that reminded me of Douglas Adams' three questions that denoted the three stages of civilisation:

• What should we eat?
• Why do we eat?
• Where should we go for lunch?

we decided to go to Jom Makan again, and this time we did much better. HWMBO gave it 7 out of 10 this time, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. We had no dessert, which was better as all the desserts are chock-full of sugar or sugar syrup. I took pictures!

M and HWMBO:




My lunch: Hainanese Chicken Rice and Gado-Gado salad:



I'd eaten a bit from the left side of this!



HWMBO had Nasi Ayam Percik ("Grilled chicken with sweet spicy coconut sauce served with steamed rice, fresh salad, and prawn crackers")



and M had Nasi Goreng (I think):



Afterwards we strolled to the White Cube, where a forgettable exhibition called "Lesser Panda" had its last day today. The top level was full of people watching a movie about the psychologist for the Munich police during the 1972 Olympic Games (you may remember, that was when Black September took Israeli athletes hostage), and the bottom level had some rather geometric and abstract paintings incorporating things which might or might not have been rings.

Then to Waterstone's Piccadilly, where I bought an O'Reilly title: "Windows Vista Annoyances"--which have been much on my mind of late.

We parted from M there, he to Leicester Square again to enquire about a movie, and us home via Boots, where HWMBO got an "alice band" for his hair.

We had stew for dinner, and HWMBO was mightily annoyed that I hadn't eaten some cottage cheese which expired yesterday. I think it'll stay until tomorrow night, when I won't really want to eat much.

Now to reading about Windows Vista annoyances...it does seem that the book isn't quite thick enough to accomodate all of them.

When I'm in the Victoria office, I usually walk to Victoria Place for lunch (jacket potato). Today's walk was not without interest.

First, after getting some cash, I walked down Chester Street towards Victoria. A woman, about 35 years old, stick-thin, was locking her front door while her (driver/butler?) was loading a suitcase into her car. A woman of a certain age was walking by, and I heard this exchange:

Woman of a Certain Age (WCA): Good morning, dear. Are you going any place nice?
Stick-thin woman: St. Tropez.
WCA: Oh, that's lovely.

I was out of earshot by this time, but this is the neighbourhood in which I work.

At Eaton Gardens, there was a drunk sitting on the ground leaning on the fence, bottle at the ready and a puddle of pee a few feet away. Again, this is my work neighbourhood.

At Chester Square, the police guard at Margaret Thatcher's pad was pacing with his rifle. What a job, guarding Margaret Thatcher, Milk-Snatcher. This week's If... comic in thegrauniad G2 resurrects the old battleaxe and it's quite funny.

Yet again, I had to dodge multiple unfortunates with pet suitcases, none of whom had the foggiest idea of their location or destination.

Victoria Place has plasma screens all over. A few weeks ago, they had annoying little blurbs every 30 seconds or so extolling the virtues of eating there if you're hungry, drinking there if you're thirsty, and the like. All these have disappeared. In their place has appeared innumerable music videos. Blurgh. The jacket potato with cottage cheese and chives was exceptionally good this noon--why, I can't tell you. The potato skin wasn't dry and burnt, but moist and lovely.

On the way back I passed a nursery school on Eccleston Street. The teachers/minders/keepers/guards were herding the little dears into the school before turning the darlings over to their childminders for the afternoon. Each child had an electric blue uniform with a white straw boater hat on top. It looked like some surreal midget Swiss Guard troop were going into the school.

London adventures.

I'm still finding it difficult to adjust to 5-days-a-week 9-to-5 working. I have cut down my online presence to the bone, even to the extent of removing Overheard in New York from my friends list. Very sad, as I always get a laugh out of it.

Last night I started looking at my friends list, not having done so since Tuesday evening because of my Lodge meeting Wednesday night. I had four pages (about 200 entries) to plow through. So, I have to figure out what to do. I fear that some friends may have to be temporarily sidelined. But, I cannot continue to spend all my non-work time on the computer, then watch the 10:00 news and fall into bed. I will continue to adjust until I get the balance right.

Farewell to those whom I've friended but will have to un-friend--you'll mostly be those who are syndicated from other blog sites or whom I haven't encountered in a while. No hard feelings, I hope.

On another note, I decided to walk to Subway for lunch this noon. I was going to get my favourite, a BMT, and decided impulsively while on line to get a foot-long as I was hungry.

The person taking orders gabbled something at me out of which I got "free drink". "Gabbled" is the only word I can use. He was not a native English speaker, I believe, and his accent was quite heavy. So I said "OK". Who wouldn't? I just wanted my sandwich.

As they put the meat on it, I realised what I'd agreed to. Double meat. OH. MY. GOD. When you get double meat it makes a pleasant, filling sandwich into a cholesterol bomb that is, really, so unpleasant to eat it makes you ill. But I didn't realise it until it was too late to stop them.

(PS Double meat, even though it gets you a free drink, also costs you nearly double the regular price: £6.70, or more than US$10.)

So I took it, got my drink, and attempted to eat. I had to remove some meat in order to choke it down, and the sandwich was so full that the sides were disintegrating along the fault lines baked into the bread.

So, never again. I looked on the menu board before I belched my way back to work and there was no mention of a "double meat" sandwich, nor its price. I'll still go to Subway, but my faith in it has been severely (burp!) shaken.